Sapphire Serpent Uncoiling
by dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: After the incident at the Dueling Club, Harry's just about had enough. House rivalries, the Heir of Slytherin, rumors and gossip...he's had it. He wants answers. When the Sorting Hat offers him an alternative, Harry accepts. And with it, he'll find new friends, and maybe exactly what hes wanted all along. AU book 2 on.
1. Chapter 1

**Sapphire Serpent Uncoiling**

 **Chapter** **One:** **Frustration** **and** **Conversation**

Harry slammed his way through the library door, heading for the back. His head was pounding, and he could barely see straight, too focused on the tight burning in his chest and cheeks to pay more than minimal attention to his surroundings.

Studying in the common areas was intolerable these days. Ever since the disaster at the Dueling Club, he couldn't go anywhere or do anything without being followed by half a dozen terrified stares.

Why? He'd told them the truth, that he'd told the snake to stop. No one seemed to believe him though. And now there were whispers that he was the Heir of Slytherin. Which of course meant that everyone thought _he'd_ been the one attacking and petrifying people in the corridors.

The tension in classes was frustrating enough, but since Colin Creevy had been attacked during one episode, he couldn't even get away from it in the common room of Gryffindor Tower. The First Years were terrified of him, and everyone else was somewhere between wary and scared. He'd heard muttered rumors about how Colin had been attacked for irritating him with the camera, and that anyone who started with him would meet the same fate.

Pity no one seemed to realize that if _that_ were the case, Draco Malfoy would have been first on his list.

Harry dumped his bag on the table in the most recessed table he could find, almost back into the Restricted Section, and slumped into the chair.

At least Hermione and Ron didn't think he was out petrifying people. But Ron had acted spooked for days after discovering he was a Parslemouth. He probably still would have been acting spooked, if his broken and often misfiring wand hadn't distracted him. Hermione had been less upset about the Parslemouth issue, but she'd been looking at him strangely ever since the night Mrs. Norris had been petrified, when he'd told them about the voice murmuring in the walls. The voice only he could hear, apparently.

So even his best friends, as much as they tried to pretend otherwise, thought he was a potential Dark Wizard Heir, or a lunatic.

Top it off with Lockhart's incompetence, Snape's vindictiveness, and Draco's constant annoying remarks, and it was shaping up to be a capital year.

"You know, brooding in a corner really isn't going to help your image. Unless you do want people to think you're the Heir of Slytherin."

Harry jerked upright. Standing next to the table was a slender girl, about his age. Pretty, with long dark hair and brown eyes. She had a Slytherin crest on her robes, but she didn't seem hostile. He swallowed. "Who are you?"

"Daphne Greengrass." She sat down across from him and pulled out a book from her bag. "Slytherin. I should hope you won't hold that against me."

His three least favorite people were or had been in Slytherin, but she hadn't done anything, and he was too fed up with everything else to get offended. "No. I won't." He sat up a little straighter in his chair. "What did you mean, just now?"

"Just what I said. Brooding in a corner near the Restricted Section of the library isn't going to stop people thinking you're the Heir of Slytherin. Most likely the opposite, actually." Daphne didn't look up at him.

"You don't think I am?" Harry sat up a little straighter.

Daphne looked at him. "Most of Slytherin thinks you aren't. Besides..." She closed the book. "You don't have to be a Ravenclaw to figure out certain things. Despite what Draco says, I don't think you're stupid enough to paint a threatening message on the wall and then just stare at it until someone comes. And even if you were, Granger isn't. And even if she was, there wasn't any red paint on any of your clothes. And why would you be friends with a Muggle-born if you targeted them?"

She ticked off points on her fingers. "And the little boy...anyone who was at the match knows where _you_ were when he got petrified. Bit difficult to go sneaking out of the Hospital Wing, especially with a broken arm and re-growing bones and all." She dropped her hands and picked up her book again. "And anyway, why should the Heir of Slytherin be a Gryffindor?"

Harry blinked. He hadn't thought of any of those points. Then he swallowed. "But...Hermione said...the Founders lived a thousand years ago. She said I might be. The Parseletongue..."

"Hmmm...well, you can have a wizard's blood and not be his Heir, you know. Weasley ought to have been able to tell you that, being the youngest of his family." She frowned at him. "You don't know a lot, do you?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I was raised by my aunt and uncle. They're Muggles, and they...they aren't fond of magic."

One pert eyebrow rose. "No wonder Draco thinks you're a bit of a dunce. Really, there's a lot you don't even realize is going on."

"I know that. But it's not as if I can just march into Slytherin and demand answers." He grimaced. "I don't even know what I'm looking for!" He put his head on the table.

"Is that why you're here?" Daphne put her book down again.

Harry grimaced. "It's just...Lockhart, and Draco, and everyone thinking I'm Slytherin's Heir, and the Parsletongue, and...loads of stuff." He looked up at her, just realizing he'd offered a Slytherin the perfect ammunition for mocking him. But 'dunce' comment aside, she'd been almost decent to him. "Even...these House rivalries and everything..."

"Yes, well, it's really just Slytherin and Gryffindor that are so sharp about it. The Ravenclaws are more interested in knowing things. The Hufflepuffs don't generally care, most of the time anyway, and they're too polite make too much fuss when they do." Daphne sighed, then stuffed her book into her bag. "It'll be supper soon, and best for you if you aren't seen missing. But, a word of advice, if you'll hear it from a Snake...if you don't like where you are, best to change it yourself, instead of waiting for it to happen for you."

 _ **Author's Note:** This story is actually a request from a friend, who wanted to see a story with a Ravenclaw Harry making friends with Luna and Daphne. It's not my usual thing, but it sounded like an interesting challenge. But for some reason, it wanted to start in Book 2...I have no idea why._

 _Next chapter...Harry finds a possible solution...or at least a new way to do things._


	2. Chapter 2: Sorting it Out

**Chapter** **Two:** **Sorting** **it** **Out**

Harry stumbled into Dumbledore's office, his stomach churning.

Another attack. This time it was Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick. He'd stumbled over them while following that damn voice, and of course everyone thought he'd been the one to attack them. Especially since the events at the Dueling Club. Justin had been convinced that Harry had set the snake on him, and now everyone was whispering that he'd decided to finish the job.

Nearly Headless Nick was just icing on the cake. Harry swallowed hard. Even Hermione and Ron had looked scared as McGonagall marched him away.

His gaze flickered around the room, taking in the knickknacks, the decrepit looking bird on the perch, crooning softly. The Sorting Hat on the shelf nearby.

The Sorting Hat. Harry stared at it, remembering. Remembering the things the Hat had said. He bit his lip, then marched over to the shelf, picked the Hat up off the shelf, and jammed it on his head.

 _'Back again, Mr. Potter? Something on your mind?'_

Harry chewed his cheek a moment, then responded. "When you were sorting me..."

 _'Ah. You were a difficult case. Strong attributes for all the Houses. Excellent potential. You could be great. And I still say you would have done well in Slytherin.'_

Harry's stomach flip-flopped. "I don't want to be in Slythern." Not the House that supported people like Snape and Malfoy. Even if the one girl, Daphne, had been the decent sort.

 _'And yet you don't seem to be content where you are. You seem to have a bit of a bee in your bonnet, as it were.'_

Harry considered a moment. But the Hat wasn't likely to tell anyone anything, except Dumbledore. "It's just...everyone thinks I'm the Heir of Slytherin. No one listens when I say I haven't done anything, even though they haven't any proof against me. It's just because I can speak Parseltongue. Ron and Hermione are afraid of me because I can hear things they can't. And...there's just so much I don't know. I don't even know what I'm trying to find out." He huffed out a breath. "Everyone...either they think I'm some sort of ruddy Dark Wizard, or they expect me to be...well, they want Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. The Gryffindor Seeker. I just want...I want to know things, to understand. I'm tired of bloody rivalries and everyone staring at me like they think I'm going to attack them. Or like they think I ought to save them."

 _'Quite the conundrum indeed.'_

Harry sighed, slumping into the chair. "I just wish...I wish I could find a place where no one cares, where I could get some answers."

 _'Well, I can't promise that no one will notice you, as a matter of fact, that's the last thing I could promise. But if you're truly sure you want a change, I can send you to a place that might meet your requirements.'_

Harry sat up straight. "You can what?"

 _'Well, Mr. Potter, I won't say that I don't think Slytherin and Gryffindor are your best Houses. I stand by my decision. But it's also true that you do show a strong potential for all Houses. Now, I don't normally agree to this, but you do seem to be facing more than your fair share of problems. So if you're truly feeling overwhelmed, I could re-sort you. It isn't recommended, no not at all, but it is possible.'_

"Re-sort me? You mean, put me in another House?"

 _'Quite right. But I'll only offer it once, so you'd better be absolutely sure it's what you want. I won't put you back in Gryffindor if you decide that this doesn't work out.'_

Harry clenched his hands on the chair arms.

Re-sorting. He'd be out of Gryffindor. Out of these stupid rivalries. Maybe he'd get away from the whispers, the fear. Away from the wary glances and the subtle shunning.

But...he'd have to leave Hermione and Ron. True, they could still be friends, there was no rule against it, but it wouldn't be the same. He wouldn't share a dorm with Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean. No curling up in the Gryffindor Common Room after hours and talking over the things that were on their minds, like the voices he was hearing. No doing homework and coaxing Hermione to give him all the answers. No laughing when Seamus's latest attempt to turn something into rum backfired. They'd probably have different schedules too. And he probably wouldn't be the Seeker for his new House.

But the Hat said it show him a place where he could find answers. About Parseltongue, maybe about the voice. Maybe about the creature petrifying people. Maybe about himself.

And if he had different schedules from Ron and Hermione...well, he'd also have different schedules from Draco Malfoy and his cronies. Maybe classes would be easier, without them distracting him, messing with his work.

He might even be able to do better in Potions...not that Snape would be any fairer about it. But at least people wouldn't be tipping things into his cauldron, exploding it or turning his potions to sludge.

"Mr. Potter?" A new voice broke him out of his thoughts. He jumped, then shoved the hat backward so he could see out from under it, though he didn't take it off.

Dumbledore was standing by the desk, his expression grave. "Harry...might I ask what you are doing?"

He swallowed hard. "I...I wanted to ask the Sorting Hat something. It told me something, when I was Sorted last year."

"Indeed? And I assume this has something to do with the situation you currently find yourself in?" Dumbledore stroked the back of the bird beside his desk. Harry had noticed it before, but then it had been a decrepit, elderly thing. Now it was a tiny thing, hardly more than a fledgling. It cheeped and nuzzled Dumbledore's fingers.

"It said I could do well in all the Houses...but it said I'd do best in Slytherin. And now...everyone's saying I might be Slytherin's Heir..." He bit his lip, and then the words burst out of him. "I'm not! I know I'm not! But just because I can speak Parseltongue, everyone thinks..."

"I am aware of what everyone thinks. I am also aware of your particular abilities, and of the rumors being spread about them. I have done my best to contain them to the school, but alas, my powers are not extensive enough to prevent them within it. However, rest assured, I also do not believe that you are the Heir of Slytherin."

"But you don't know. Because Slytherin lived a thousand years ago. Anything could have happened."

"That is true. Nevertheless, I do not think it likely that you are the Heir of Slytherin. More to the point, I know for a fact that there are others who have equal or greater claim to the title, and far more desire to have it." Harry sat upright, but Dumbledore lifted his hand before he could voice even a word. "I think it wise to leave names out of the discussion. You may rest assured that I have been keeping watch over those people that reside within Hogwarts, and for those who reside out of it."

It might have been reassuring to know, but it wasn't satisfying. Harry swallowed.

"Harry?" Dumbledore's tone was kindly, questioning, his expression neutral.

The neutrality was what made him speak. "Sir...the Hat said it could re-sort me. And honestly...I can't take a breath without people treating me like a hero or a threat. I can't go to classes without being treated like a pariah. I can't...I just want to…I want to understand things. I want to get away from all these stupid House rivalries. It's bad enough worrying about things like Voldemort, or the Heir of Slytherin, or being a Parselmouth. I don't need that too."

"I see." Dumbledore stilled, and his expression went from neutral to solemn. "Harry...the Hat places each student in the place where they will do best. To be re-sorted..."

"I'm already not in the place I could do best. At least, according to the Hat. It wanted to put me in Slytherin. But it also said I could go into any House. And honestly...I love Gryffindor. I really do. I love my roommates, and Ron, and Hermione, and the others. But...even they're afraid of me now. I can see it in their eyes. And I...I'm tired of waiting for something to happen, to make them walk away from me. Maybe being famous, maybe being The-Boy-Who-Lived means I can't have normal relationships. Maybe I can't have friends like that. But if that's the case...I don't want to stay there and deal with it either."

"I see. You do indeed have many burdens." Dumbledore resumed stroking the little bird...which was already somewhat larger and growing new red and gold plumage. Harry blinked at it. At least, Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot say that I agree with the idea of re-sorting. However it is, in the end, a decision only you can make. And, as you say, there are clearly both positives and negatives in either case. And so, I will leave it up to you."

Harry swallowed hard. He'd hoped that Dumbledore would give him some advice on the matter. Maybe even encourage him, or forbid him. But no, the decision was his.

He slipped the Hat back into it's proper position.

 _'Back again I see. And have you made a decision, Mr. Potter?'_

Had he? Well, he'd put the Hat back on rather than take it off and put it on a shelf.

His heart was pounding. The thought of losing his friendship with Hermione and Ron, of everything that he might lose...he might end up friendless and alone, as he'd been before, when he'd had Dudley scaring off all his friends.

But...if he could just find answers...if he could just do something, rather than endure this constant staring and whispering…

Well, at least if he got re-sorted, they'd have something new to stare and whisper about. Something he'd actually done, rather than just things they thought he'd done or were afraid he'd do.

He made up his mind. "I want to be re-sorted."

 _'Are you sure? Remember, you can't take it back if you go through with it.'_

He clenched his fists on his knees, biting his lip so hard he was sure it would bleed. "I'm sure. I want to be re-sorted."

 _'Very well then. It's not ideal, but it may just help you find your feet after all. So, as you wish, better be…_ _ **RAVENCLAW!**_ _'_

Harry slumped in his chair and pulled the Hat from his head.

It was done. He was now a Ravenclaw.

He just hoped he'd done the right thing.

 _ **Author's Note:** So...Harry changed houses. Next up...a lot of backlash, but it might not be all bad._


	3. Chapter 3: Consequences

**Chapter Three: Consequences**

Dumbledore took the hat from him and set it back on it's shelf. "I see you have made your decision, Harry."

Harry looked down. His robes now had a Ravenclaw crest on them. He swallowed hard. "Yes sir. I have, I guess."

"Very well. I will have your things moved to your new dormitory." Dumbledore turned to the fireplace and tossed in a pinch of Floo powder. "Filius, a word in my office, if you please." The flames flickered, and Dumbledore tossed in another pinch. "Minerva, if you could come to my office...thank you." Then the old wizard turned away from the fireplace. "Your new and your old Heads of Houses will be here momentarily, and we will get everything squared away."

Harry forced himself to nod. "Thank you sir." He couldn't help wondering, though, what McGonagall would say. It hurt to think she'd be disappointed in him.

Of course, she wouldn't be the last. Harry cringed, thinking about the tirade Wood was sure to deliver. Not to mention his friends. He'd wager Snape would have something to say as well. And Malfoy.

Far too soon for his liking, there was a knock on the door, and the professors stepped in, Flitwick following behind McGonagall. McGonagall had a pinched look on her face. "Mr. Potter..."

"It is about Harry that I wish to speak to you both." Dumbledore held up a hand to forestall any further words. "In light of the recent attacks, and the commotion they have caused, young Harry requested that new arrangements be made for him. He seemed to feel, considering his status as a Parselmouth and the fact that two Gryffindors have been attacked, that he might no longer be safe among his housemates."

"Surely you don't think anyone would harm you, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall looked at him with concerned eyes.

Harry ducked his head. "No Professor. It's just...there's too much going on. And everyone's afraid of me now. It's…it's not that I don't like Gryffindor. I do." He raised his head to look her in the eyes. "I do. It's just, all this fuss with the Heir of Slytherin, and everything that's going on…it's hard. I just...I needed to get away from it all." He ducked his head again, feeling confused and embarrassed and oddly ashamed.

"The Sorting Hat recommended that young Harry be resorted, into a House that would better suit his needs. After careful consideration, Harry agreed, and I have permitted him to do so." At that, McGonagall finally seemed to notice the changed crest on Harry's robes.

She stumbled a little, putting a hand on the back of a chair. Then she seemed to collect herself. "Well, if the Sorting Hat and Mr. Potter have agreed, and you feel it is best, then I suppose there is nothing to be done." She sighed. "I can't say I agree, Albus, but...as it is already accomplished, I shall rearrange the dormitories. And Mr. Potter..."

Harry forced himself to meet her eyes. There was a sad smile on her face. After a moment, McGonagall stepped forward to lay a stern but kindly hand on his shoulder. "I confess, I am sorry to lose you as our Seeker, but I wish you well in all your endeavors. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Harry swallowed hard and managed a jerky nod. McGonagall's words felt almost like a farewell, and it hurt more than he'd expected. "Yes Professor."

McGonagall studied him a long moment more, then turned and left the office. Harry watched her go with a heavy heart. Before he could sink any further into depression, his thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore turning to Flitwick.

"Filius, I leave young Mr. Potter in your charge now. I trust you will see him safely settled in."

"Of course, Headmaster." Flitwick turned to Harry. "Come with me, Mr. Potter, and we'll get you settled in the dorms, a new schedule issued for you, and all the necessary details handled." the tiny Charms professor gestured, and Harry stood up to follow him.

Flitwick led him out of the Headmaster's office, through the halls and up several flights of stairs until they came to another tower. This one had a doorway, rather like the entrance to the Headmaster's office, but with a large Raven in front. As they approached, the statue came to life. "What is man's greatest treasure?"

Harry stopped, nonplussed. He'd been expecting to need a password. Flitwick cleared his throat. "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."

The raven bowed, and the door swung open. Harry swallowed. "Err...Professor…what was..."

Flitwick turned. "Oh, yes, of course. Ravenclaw Tower doesn't have a password, per se. Instead, students are asked a riddle to answer before they enter."

"Oh." Harry hadn't had much practice with riddles. "What if you don't know the answer?"

"Then the Raven may ask you another. Or you may wait until a student comes who answers correctly. Don't worry. They'll let you in, once your change in House has registered." Flitwick smiled at him. "There's no need to be concerned, Mr. Potter. I'm sure you'll settle in just fine."

"Yes, Professor." Harry wasn't so sure. Hermione was good at riddles. She'd solved Snape's after all. He hadn't been able to make heads or tails of it.

Maybe there was a book in the library that would help. Or one of his dorm mates, assuming they weren't all terrified of him on sight like the rest of the school.

The inside of Ravenclaw Tower was very different from Gryffindor. The color scheme was all dark bronzed wood and cool blue tones. Fireplaces roared in the corners. Tables were set all about the room, with chairs drawn up around them. Several of them were occupied by students and piles of books. On one wall was a large statue of a regal looking woman, identified as Rowena Ravenclaw. On another wall was a large bookcase, crammed absolutely full of books. It wasn't quite the library he and Ron had joked about, but it was substantial.

That was about all he had time to notice before the students started noticing him. All around the room, students looked up. Whispers started, and Harry felt his stomach clench.

"Students. Due to extenuating circumstances, Mr. Potter will be joining our House. I trust all of you will make him feel welcome. Mr. Potter, with me please."

Harry followed as Flitwick led him over to a table occupied by three boys who looked about his age. "Mr. Potter, these are our other Second Year Ravenclaw boys. Mr. Terry Boot, Mr. Michael Cornier, and Mr. Anthony Goldstien. These boys will be your dorm mates. They'll also be your study group, unless you require tutoring from an older student. Boys, I shall leave you to get acquainted, and fill Mr. Potter in on all the rules and arrangements of the noble House of Ravenclaw. Mr. Potter, I shall be in my office if you have any further questions. Or, you may ask one of the Prefects."

With that, the short professor turned on his heel and went back towards the door. Harry was left standing next to the table, feeling rather uncomfortable and out of sorts.

There was a short silence, then Anthony heaved a sigh and shoved his books to the side. "Well, come on Potter. We were just about to start our Transfiguration assignment."

"Oh. Err...right." Harry sat down. "But...you aren't going to...to ask me..."

"About being the Heir of Slytherin?" Terry Boot shrugged. "Well, I did think you might be, but you'd have to be daft to paint a threatening message on the wall, then Petrify Filch's cat, then get caught at the scene. And then again, with Justin. And if you've been put in Ravenclaw, I reckon you can't be that thick."

"But how did you get put in Ravenclaw? That's what I'd like to know." Michael piped up.

"And what's it like, speaking Parseltongue? I mean, a whole different language?" Anthony chimed in. "Is it hard? How did you learn it?"

"Erm…I don't know. I've been able to do it for a long time. I thought it was just something wizards did. Honestly, I didn't even know it was another language until my friend Ron told me." Harry shrugged awkwardly.

"But when did you first talk to a snake?" Terry leaned forward.

"Uhm...about a year and a half ago. We were at the zoo, and I accidentally released a python." He wasn't about to tell them he'd nearly set the python on his cousin Dudley. That would have made them suspicious of him.

"What about getting resorted? That's never happened." Michael interjected again. "How'd you do that?"

"I dunno. I was in the Headmaster's office, and the Hat started talking to me. I was...well, Gryffindor Tower's pretty on edge these days, especially now that Nearly Headless Nick's been petrified. I was worried. And I talked to the Hat, and it said it could resort me."

"And it picked Ravenclaw?"

"I guess. I wanted to be put somewhere where all the House rivalries weren't so intense. And where I could find answers." There were raised eyebrows all around. Harry huffed in frustration. "Look, I was raised by my Muggle aunt and uncle. They don't even like magic. I didn't even know it was real until I got my letter. I didn't know about this..." He tapped the scar on his forehead. "...or anything else. I barely got to read my textbooks before I came here. I feel like...like there's loads of things I don't know, all sorts of rules and stuff that I never learned. All sorts of History that everyone else seems to know. And now there's this Parseltongue thing, and this whole...Heir of Slytherin thing, and it's just really confusing. I just want to be able to do well and understand things properly."

The other three boys exchanged looks. Then Terry nodded. "Well, if that's your goal, you've come to the right place. I got a book on Wizarding Culture and Magic from one of the prefects my first week here. I've read it pretty well through a dozen times, so I can pass it to you if you like." he quirked a grin. "I'm a Muggleborn, so I understand how this could be confusing."

"And I've got some history books we were looking at. Plus...have you read _**Hogwarts, A History**_ yet?" Anthony perked up.

"Err...no. Not yet. I haven't had a chance to pick up a copy." Harry shifted in his seat, flushing. Of course, Hermione had been after him for ages to read it, but it was always easy to be diverted by Quidditch or playing chess or cards with Ron.

"Oh. Well, I've got a spare copy I can lend you. It has loads of fascinating information. Might come in handy."

Harry nodded. "That would be great." He wondered how he was going to get through so much reading. Then he remembered, he didn't have Quidditch practice anymore. He'd have plenty of time to read without Wood breathing down his neck with practices in all weathers. He felt a pang of loss.

Michael was turning back to his books. "Well, we'll save that for later. Right now, we've got Transfiguration to work on." He tilted his head at Harry. "Have you started yet? You had class the day before we did."

"No. I didn't. I was working on my Charms homework last."

Michael frowned. "Charms is due tomorrow. How come you haven't finished yet?"

Harry flushed. "Well, it wasn't due for another two days for me. Besides...it's been hard to concentrate."

Michael blinked. "I suppose it would be. Well, we've done ours, so we need to work on Transfiguration now. But we can go back over the Charms homework after we finish this, if you like. A refresher before class is good anyway." The other boys nodded.

What followed was a wholly new experience for Harry. Apparently, Ravenclaws not only studied together in organized groups, they had a very specific stratagy. Each member of the group took turns reading out information, jotting down notes before starting their actual paper. And none of them worked solely from the textbook, the way he and Ron so often did. In fact, it seemed that one or another of his table-mates was always jumping up and running over to the bookshelf, dragging out a large volume and bringing it back. It was bewildering, and a little embarrassing. Harry felt left far behind.

Fortunately, the others didn't seem to notice. Or, if they did, they were either too absorbed or too polite to comment. More than once, they corrected him when he was about to make a serious error on his assignment. Anthony helped by double-checking his diagrams and pointing out where he'd smudged them. Terry showed him a few tricks with a quill that he'd never learned, which made his writing loads neater. Michael helped him with his pronunciation. By the time the dinner bell rang two hours later, Harry felt like he'd been wrung through a sieve.

He also felt like he'd learned something, really learned something, for the first time in a while. It hadn't occurred to him before how much he'd been letting Hermione give him the answers and the information. Which was nice, when he had to rush off to Quidditch practice or wanted to goof off with Ron or Dean or Seamus, but might have impeded his learning.

Terry must have noticed his downcast expression. "Don't worry. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. You'll sort yours out soon enough. Me, I'm pants at Herbology."

"Potions." Michael grimaced. "I do all right with the books and the theory, but the timing on the practical is rough. And Snape's a harsh teacher."

"Yeah. He really is." Harry paused, wondering if Snape's hatred of him would decrease now that he wasn't in Gryffindor like his father had been. It probably wouldn't, but then Ravenclaws had lessons with the Hufflepuffs instead of the Slytherins. At least without Malfoy to sabotage his work, he might do decently, if not wonderfully.

And maybe his Housemates could help him improve his written work enough that Snape would stop sneering at that. He felt oddly cheered by the idea of being able to stick it to Snape. Changing houses would be worth it for that, if nothing else.

The mood lasted until he reached the Entrance Hall. "Harry! Oi, Harry!"

Ron and Hermione were waiting by the doors to the Great Hall, both with frantic looks on their faces. Harry watched them cross the hall towards him, his heart sinking.

Terry noticed his expression, and his friends. "We'll save you a seat at the table and some food." Then he and the others went into the hall ahead of him.

"Harry!" Ron puffed to a stop in front of him. "Blimey, we've been worried about you. All your stuff's gone from the dorms, and McGonagall came to talk to Wood earlier. Dunno what she said, but he looked right pissed. I thought you'd been...well, expelled, to be honest." He gulped.

"What happened?" Hermione looked worried and relieved at the same time. "Dumbledore...he didn't really think..."

"He didn't think I Petrified Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, if that's what you want to know. And I'm not expelled." Harry swallowed. "I just...look, I needed some space, all right. All this Heir of Slytherin stuff, and the whole snake language thing…it's too much, especially on top of Quidditch and the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and the whole...well, the whole being me thing." Harry sighed. "While I was in Dumbledore's office, I talked to the Sorting Hat. It gave me a choice, and Dumbledore agreed."

"What choice?"

Harry took a deep breath. "It offered to resort me, to the place I most needed to be in."

"But...everyone knows you're a Gryffindor." Ron's brow scrunched. "Where else would you want to be?"

"Somewhere where Malfoy can't mess with me, and maybe Snape won't think I'm my dad every time he looks at me. Somewhere I can find some answers, learn about the things I just don't know. About myself, and Voldemort, and being a Parselmouth, and all the rest of it." Harry scrubbed a hand through his messy hair. "Look, the Hat put me in Ravenclaw. I'm there now. We can still be friends, and study together, and all that. I just...I needed this."

"What about Quidditch?" Ron frowned.

Harry shrugged. "Reckon I'll try out for the Ravenclaw team next year. If they've got an opening." His stomach clenched at the thought of not flying, of not playing, for the rest of the year, but he resolutely ignored it.

Hermione studied his face. "Are you sure this is what you want, Harry? I mean, no offense, but you aren't the best at studying, or reading…." She trailed off.

"I reckon I'll have to get better. But we study in year groups in Ravenclaw, and my study mates have given me loads of help. We're doing Charms after dinner." He looked at Hermione. "Maybe over the weekend we could meet, and I'll show you what we're doing." He glanced at Ron. "And we could...maybe play chess, in the Great Hall or outside or something."

"I guess." Ron rolled his shoulders, looking unhappy. "But...it won't be the same."

"I know. But...we can still be friends?"

"Of course." Hermione smiled and gave him a quick hug. Ron nodded, though there was sadness in his eyes.

"Good." Harry nodded. "Then I reckon we'd better get to dinner before everything's gone." He stepped between his friends and made his way into the Great Hall.

A hush fell over the Hall as he entered. Harry tried not to squirm, looking instead for his year mates at his new table. Terry waved at him, and Harry made his way over, trying to ignore the whispers and stares that followed him. It wasn't easy, especially when Ron and Hermione separated from him to go over to their own table. He felt lost and alone without his friends beside him.

"Everything all right?" Terry slid aside as Harry took the seat they'd held for him.

"Yeah. Fine." Harry flashed his housemate a strained grin, then set to dishing himself up some dinner to avoid more questions.

He managed to eat a good bit, though the food tasted more like sawdust to him. Afterward, the tramped back to the tower and spent an hour going over their Charms homework. Harry had missed quite a lot on his essay, and wound up having to rewrite almost the whole thing. While he supposed that improving his work was a good thing, he still felt tired and disgruntled but the time he was finished and they headed up to bed.

He played Terry in a round of chess, which he lost, then retired to his bed and pulled the curtains around him. The beds were familiar in shape, but the hangings were a deep blue that gave him pause.

Harry lay awake in his bed long after his roommates were asleep, listening in vain for Ron's half-hearted mumbles and Neville's odd noises, or Trevor's quiet croaks. But they were sounds that he'd never hear again. He sighed, rolled over and punched his pillow, refusing to let the tears pricking at the back of his eyes fall.

He didn't cry, but it was hard. His throat hurt, and his eyes stung. He hadn't felt this alone since he'd left the Dursleys. And he knew, even though they'd said they'd remain friends, that his relationship with Ron and Hermione would never be the same. No more sneaking out of the Tower together. They wouldn't have all their classes together either. No more studying around the fire in the Common room, or staying up late talking about different things, like the Heir of Slytherin or Hagrid's pets, or Malfoy's plots, or how Snape was a git. Or what Voldemort might be up to.

He didn't think he'd made the wrong choice, but it was still hard.

Eventually, Harry drifted off into an uneasy sleep, filled with dreams of what he had given up, and what he hoped to gain.

 _ **Author's Note:** Finally got another chapter up. Harry wasn't cooperating. _

_Next up...another encounter with Daphne. And a new friend._


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